Observations
by Elsiah
Summary: “The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes.” –Sherlock Holmes. Raph and Don spend an evening people watching and learn more about each other in the process. Brother fic. Rated for mild language, violence. R&R please!


**AN:** A million and one thanks to Trillian4210 for the beta!  
The knuckle of a sai is the very end of its handle. Enjoy. :)

* * *

"What we're doin' is borderline stalkerish."

"Raphael, observing people's behaviors while making educated guesses about those who have the potential to be criminals or victims is not 'stalkerish.'" Donatello dropped the last word inside the pair of air quotes created by four of his six fingers.

"It's a training exercise to improve our powers of observation and analyzation."

The two ninja were on a mission that their brother Leo had devised the night before and that Mikey had dubbed _Operation: Peeping Turtles_. The team split into two groups, each attempting to be the first to locate and stop a simple, minimal-risk crime. But, the catch was that this criminal act could not be one that was chanced upon or located by monitoring police broadcasts. It had to be found by observing a crowded public area and singling out the person whose actions almost screamed 'I don't care about my purse. Take it,' or 'I'm lost and have no clue where I'm going. Target me.'

Of course, Raph had to argue that they should be allowed to choose a potential victim _or_ criminal. He was positive that he could spot the latter a mile away, so making that small addition to the rules ensured that he could have this wrapped up in no time and have the rest of the night to bust up some real crime with Casey. There was just one problem: he and Donny had been camped on this same rooftop for almost two hours, and not one lead had cropped up. What's more, Donatello, the Eternal Spring of Useless Information, now gushed forth undeterred. Raph tuned back in.

"It's people watching. Some consider that a fascinating pastime."

"Yeah? Well, I still feel like what's-his-face from _To Catch a Predator_ is gonna come strollin' out from behind that vent with a camera crew and a buttload of cops."

"Well, they'd only need the one pair of cuffs. My observations of the semi-blind homeless man with the toothless dog aren't quite the same as your 'observations' of the hot mama next to him."

"Hey, bro, I ain't lookin' at her like that," the turtle threw his hands up as if to shield himself from the accusation. In truth, the red-banded turtle had been watching the young woman leaning against the wooden bench with a bit more interest than he had the other park goers. His eye was constantly drawn to her and away from the bland, somber people around her. She was simply more interesting to look at. Her long chestnut hair cascaded over her shoulders. She had a smaller build but was a bit pudgy; Raph assumed she was trying to mask it under her loose-fitting shirt. She leaned against the same bench that Don's homeless man sat upon, and she was eating a bag of those pickle-flavored chips that Leo liked so much. Raph involuntarily cringed. Nasty! But she seemed to keep them down with no trouble. She kept glancing at the clock on her cell phone, but it never seemed to be the right time to leave. Was she stalling? She was definitely distracted. Didn't she know that this street was swarming with criminals just waiting to strike? At least Raph hoped that was the case; he couldn't wait to get this over with.

Raph raised his eye ridges and stuck one index finger in the air while reciting in a surprisingly Donny-like voice, "By my analysis, I can conclude that she is the most likely criminal target in the general vicinity."

"Gosh, Raph, I didn't realize that you'd ever listened to me long enough to have accumulated such a large vocabulary. I mean, 'analysis'? 'Vicinity'? Wow."

"Shove it up your shell, braniac," Raphael growled. He stalked across the rooftop and threw himself into the opposite corner. Lounging, he draped one arm across the now eye-level ledge and shot his cold stare down at the oblivious passers by. All the while his right hand fingered the red-wrapped handle of a sai, finally releasing it and sending the blade dancing between his fingers. It spun so quickly that Donatello felt somewhat dizzy. After a second more a smile broke upon the resident genius' lips. He returned to his task with an almost inaudible murmur.

" 'The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes'," he chuckled lightly.

"What'd you say?" Raphael leapt to his feet, both sais pointed at his startled younger brother. Donny's competent manner abandoned him along with his ability to form complete sentences.

"I-I didn't say! I wasn't… y-you… I… your sais and dancing and…"

"Oh, you bet that my sais have a date with your pretty little shell. I know you were talkin' about me. You callin' me stupid? Is that what's so obvious to ya?" Raph advanced upon Donatello, weapons raised.

"Sherlock Holmes! I-I was quoting Sherlock Holmes!" the flustered turtle yelped as he dived through the access door to the apartments below. The red-banded turtle stopped dead in his tracks and scratched his head with the knuckle of a sai, perplexed.

"Say what?"

The door creaked open and Donny's head inched out slowly. When he was pretty sure that Raph had halted his advance, he slipped outside and shut the door quietly. Leaning against it, head bowed, he lifted his eyes to meet those of his brother. Raphael interpreted the message in his gaze. With an exasperated sigh and much eye-rolling, he gave his weapons one final spin before placing them back in his belt. Don immediately straightened up, shaking off his moment of panic.

"Thank you," he said tersely.

"No problem, spaz. Now, what the shell were you going on about?"

"Oh," Donny switched into living factbook mode. "It's a quote from _The Hound of the Baskervilles_." When Raph's raised eye ridges prodded him to continue, Don willingly obliged. "Sherlock Holmes said that 'The world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes' and I was, uh…," Donatello's mind finally caught up with his mouth, but it was too late. The damage was done.

"You were playin' detective, watching _me_," Raph finished. Don couldn't quite keep the surprise off his face. "Ya know," Raph continued, "just 'cause I get ticked off at something doesn't mean the ninja switch flicks off." Don's eyes dropped to the floor like lead. His face flushed a darker shade of green. An uneasy silence lingered for a bit while Don watched the floor and Raph watched him. Finally, Raph spoke.

"So? Try me," Raph threw his arms open in invitation. Donny's furrowed brow and down-turned mouth suggested that his brother's message had not gotten through.

"C'mon, Sherlock, you've observed your obvious things now. Show me what ya got."

Don's mouth fell open and clicked shut. Was he actually serious? It certainly seemed so. A light flickered to life behind the brainy turtle's eyes, a light of intrigue and competition. Raphy wanted a show? Well then, prepare to be amazed.

"Okay. I'll start by saying that you really need to learn some basic first aid. Especially if you're not going to come to me whenever you get hurt, like when, oh say, you have a moderate laceration across your thigh from a Foot Ninja weapon that got too close. Or, let's see, when the knuckles on your left hand are busted open from pounding some Purple Dragon goon to mincemeat with your vigilante-in-crime, Casey. And, I might add as a side note that the participants of these unauthorized late night runs are surely punishable by Sensei and lecturable by Leo… Surprised already?"

Raphael's mouth hung agape.

"I'm just getting warmed up," Donny flashed a mischievous grin at Raph as he began to circle his older brother. "Before you decided to threaten me, unprovoked I might add, you were slouched in that corner with a hand on your weapon and a death glare for anyone and everyone that passed by. Now, I'm sure that agitated state of mind was due in part to my well-aimed and totally awesome burn about your voca—," a harsh growl ripped apart the end of Don's sentence. With a hard swallow and a more cautious manner, he continued, "But… it was also due to the fact that you don't want to be here. In the rules you added that we could look for criminals in addition to victims because you were sure we could spot a criminal more easily. You want to finish this quickly, so that you can go out with Casey again tonight. The problem is, you also want to win. Beat Leo at his own game. That's why you're still here." Donatello's legs ground to a halt as his explication came to a close. He stood before his brother, back rigid, hands clenched behind his shell, waiting for a response. Raph shook himself loose from the hypnotic web Don's words had woven. He coughed gruffly, then breathed deeply through his nostrils.

"That was… cool." Raph's hand slipped behind his head as he stared at the ground. Don couldn't help but want to jump and click his heels for joy. Raphael—Hamato Raphael—his brother, had just paid _him_ a compliment, no matter how much it ached and pained Raph to do so. However, Don's 'shell yeah!' bubble was burst by Raph's obvious discomfort with the situation. Out of all of them, Raph was the turtle to build the thickest, toughest walls about himself. He safeguarded his thoughts and feelings as some of his most sacred possessions, and Don had just cracked him open and read him like a book. He cleared his throat.

"It was nothing really," Don's callused hand glided from his shoulder to his elbow pad and back. "It's a pretty easy guess when you see your own feelings mirrored in someone else's." Raphael's head snapped to the side so quickly that his bandana tails brushed his cheek. Eyes burning beneath his furrowed brow, they bore into Don with the sole purpose of finding answers.

"What?" The question was not a growl, a hiss, or a shout. It was a simple, somewhat amazed question that only required a simple answer.

"You're not the only one who has work to do tonight," Don began slowly, "I'm ready to leave too. I have a big project and some time to work on it since by some miracle Mikey hasn't broken anything lately." Don's eyes glazed over as he began to think aloud, "Air intake isn't optimal but it's decent. And the controls still need to be recalibrated…" He trailed off when he caught Raph staring. He covered the short distance between them and took hold of his brother's shoulders. He could keep this secret no longer.

"I'm making jetpacks, Raph," Don could not contain the grin on his face. His excitement was contagious; soon Raph's face lit up as well.

"Really? _Really?! _Donny! You're a friggin' genius!" He punched his little brother's arm a bit too enthusiastically. "How long you been workin' on 'em? Does Mike know—."

"No. He doesn't. And _we_ are not going to tell him," Don watched Raph for any sign of opposition. Satisfied that his wish would be obeyed, he continued, "I only have one prototype now, and when they're all finished they will only be for emergency purposes."

"On Fearless Leader's orders, I'm sure," Raph snorted.

"No, that's one of my rules, actually. Another one is that you don't breathe a word of this to Leo, either."

An eye ridge shot up above the red mask incredulously.

"You're tellin' me that not even Leo knows about this? And I do? When did I enter the Twilight Zone and how do I make the change permanent?"

"It's not _that_ extraordinary," Don was slightly annoyed for some reason, "Mikey would want to 'borrow' the pack from my lab, probably to see how well the Turtle Titan could fly. Leo would lecture me for who knows how long on the importance of safety and then feel it was his duty to check in about it way too often. I honestly wouldn't trust you to leave it alone either unless I told you that currently it could prove fatal in the hands of an amateur, which it could. Then I'm sure I would have an extra pair of eyes watching Mike's every move. So, when it all boils down, logically you are the only one I could trust with this information," Donny paused and caught Raph's gaze. "And you're the only one I _would_ trust."

"Whoa. I, uh…," Raph couldn't believe his ears. Don was trusting _him _to keep quiet about this. And make sure Mike didn't find out. And make sure that if he did find out, he'd never make it out the front door with Don's death machine. AND, most importantly, he had to keep Leo in the dark about all of this. Yep, he could do that.

As Raph resurfaced from his thoughts, Don came back into view. Their eyes met. In Don's, Raph saw a childlike faith, a brother's faith, that Raph wouldn't let him down. He chuckled and aimed a light punch at his brother's arm.

"Thanks, Donny."

* * *

The faded sky of dusk had given way to the gray, starless night since the two turtles set out on their mission. They had returned to scanning the area for even the tiniest misdemeanor. Sheer stubbornness kept Raph rooted to the spot. Of all the poorly lit parks and scumbag-strewn streets of New York, they had chosen an area where the streetlights buzzed brightly and the criminal count was zilch. Despite his stubborn vigil, Raph was getting antsy. Watching the homeless guy read the funny papers to his dog just wasn't cutting it. He imagined rocketing skyward with a jetpack strapped to his shell and a thug clenched in his grip. Heh, it would be the last time that any of _them_ accused a turtle of being velocity challenged. Raph's train of thought stopped right there; he had just realized something. He turned to his comatosely bored brother.

"Hey, Don, earlier you said somethin' about your jetpack bein' deadly in the hands of an amateur?"

"Yeah, the prototype is," Don replied, staring at something on the ground. "Why?"

"Well, I'm sure you're no amateur. How many times you snuck outta the Lair to test 'er out?"

Now _this_ caught Don's attention. He tilted his head and peered at his brother. A grin tugged at the sides of his mouth.

"Why, perish the thought, Raphael! That's pure nonsense."

The two turtles fought hard against the smiles but cracked in seconds. Raph gave him an approving low five before returning to the incredibly annoying task at hand. They watched the girl with the iron stomach heading into the convenience store on the corner. A boy not much older than the turtles came from the opposite direction. He took a few quick strides and managed to have the door open and waiting by the time she arrived. He smiled as he followed her in.

"Well, that was certainly courteous," Don thought aloud.

"A little _too_ courteous if ya ask me."

"You're right, that would have been a little too polite for your standards."

"Oh, har har har. Ya know, you're a real comedian tonight, braniac."

"I have my moments," Don shrugged. The conversation faded to a lukewarm silence, not too comfortable but not unpleasant. It splintered in a matter of minutes.

"Hey, your friend is back," Donny pointed.

Raph glanced down and saw the same girl come out of the store, a bitten ice cream bar in hand. Seconds later, the young man who had followed her in followed her right back out again. She smiled at him from over her shoulder when he called out playfully. He caught up and took her by the wrist. Before she could bat an eyelash she had been shoved to the rough, slimy pavement of an alley. Her face was lost in the shadow cast by the man who towered over her. His hands clenched and relaxed in anticipation as hers flew protectively to her stomach.

"So, what do you got for me tonight, babe?" His teeth flashed through the alley's gloom. As a suffocated shriek begged to be heard, the thug jerked back and cried out himself. Blood poured from a gash in his hand made by some unknown assailant. It had trickled down his fingers and begun to splatter his shoes by the time he spotted the weapon: a shuriken imbedded into a nearby garbage can.

"Hey, don't call her babe. From what I hear, the girls don't like it all that much," a smirking voice rumbled against the buildings. The thug's head whipped about in all directions, his target forgotten for the moment. Who was this, some guy trying to muscle in on his turf? He snatched up the shuriken and held it before him in his bloody, white-knuckled grip.

"Aw c'mon, man, don't even got your own toys to play with? Hey, Don, it sure is nice of ya ta share like that."

"You know me. I do what I can," came the reply.

The criminal tensed. Jeez, now there were two of them? And the big mouth wasn't even the one who had sliced his hand open. The young man searched for any option to running away. His eyes fell upon the sobbing, huddled form pressed against the far wall. Several hasty steps later his idea was shattered by the searing pain that roared through his body. His arm had been shredded by several more weapons like the one that fell from his twitching hand.

"Try that again, and I can assure you that the next one will cut your lifespan down to the next five seconds." What had been the softer, less intimidating voice took on a tone sharper than any blade. The young man, the boy, quelled as it reverberated off the alley walls. He fell and kicked and crawled down the pavement before he finally tore into the street, whispering a silent prayer of thanks that his legs had been left intact.

* * *

Back against the moldy brick wall and rotting trash, the girl remained huddled in the smallest form she could take. She had been able to temper the sobs once she decided that the mysterious voices were _not_ going to hurt her. But she could not quell her shaking limbs or force them to obey her, so she remained where she was. Her matted hair weaved a thick net across her eyes. The popsicle stick lay forgotten in a puddle of slushy white ice cream. As she frustratingly sat there, someone approached. Peeking through her tangled hair, it became apparent that two people were standing over her. She involuntarily whimpered.

"No, it's okay. Don't be afraid. We just wanted to make sure you weren't hurt," the soft voice accompanied a light hand on her shoulder.

Her instincts told her to reject this stranger's touch, to turn and flee from this nightmare. However, she knew that these were the people that had saved her tonight, and she felt compelled to thank them somehow. She tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear in an effort to clear her vision. She could make out muscled bodies, bald heads and packs of some sort strapped on their backs. Her jaw slackened and her eyes widened as the one kneeling before her asked if she was all right in a more urgent tone.

"I… I—yes. Yeah," she forced in a whisper.

"That's good," the standing figure replied in the rougher voice, "but next time you should think twice about flirtin' with any guy that has a set of pearly whites and a cheap pair of manners."

The girl was about to retort that she hadn't been flirting, but when she yanked the last pieces of hair out of her vision she found herself alone. She stumbled to her feet. She didn't know who those men were, but they had been her guardian angels that night. Turning her face upward to the patch of sky caught between the buildings, she smiled. Her hands wrapped comfortingly around her middle.

"Thank you. Thank you so much."

* * *

Donatello soared through the air in a graceful arc, landing on the same rooftop where he and his brother had spent the last few hours. In their mad rush to the alley he had forgotten his duffel. He slipped the strap over his head so that it crossed his plastron, messenger-style. Seconds later Raph appeared, whooping and hollering, pumping the air with his fist. Basically embodying all of the traits of a shadow warrior.

"Raph, you're going to wake up the whole neighborhood!"

"Lighten up, will ya?" the red-banded turtle commenced a series of back flips, shouting all the way. "The mission's over! I thought we'd be up on this building all friggin' night, but we're done and I bet we even—,"

"Do you even care about what could have happened just now?" Don breathed. Raph cut his celebration short and turned to stare at his now quiet brother. Don looked away, readjusting the strap on his shoulder.

"Hey, what's up? Whatever could have happened didn't, so why does it matter?" Raph folded his arms across his chest. "Ya sound too much like Leo sometimes, bro," Don couldn't help but smile at that. Raph threw an arm over his shoulders and headed for the ledge.

"We saved her tonight," Raph continued, "Well, _you_ saved her. Shell, that last line of yours was like somethin' out of a movie." He pulled Don into a headlock and landed a well-placed noogie before Don could squirm away. They arrived at the edge but didn't begin their journey home. This couldn't wait until they were back at the Lair; Raph needed to know.

"Why _did_ you go into life-or-death mode on the guy? I mean, I know if he'd gotten to her and it turned into a hostage thing, it would have been bad. But… I dunno, it was just weird seein' you be me when I wasn't bein' me."

Raph watched Don's face light up in surprise, then his brow furrow in confusion and thought. Finally, his eyes widened in understanding.

"You don't know about her condition, do you?"

"What, was she sick or somethin'?" Raph asked. Don shook his head incredulously.

"Remember that Sherlock Holmes quote?"

Raph nodded dumbly.

"Just think about it," Don stifled a laugh. He leapt to the next building and kept running. Raph growled about know-it-all brothers and took off after him.

The turtles flew from rooftop to rooftop. All conversation soon died out as they fell into step beside each other. Raph set an incredible pace; he would give anything to beat Leo and Mikey home. He set a course for another alleyway, this one in a sleepier neighborhood with a half-hidden manhole.

As they traveled, Raph thought about what his brother had said. What did Don think, that he was better at this observation thing than Raph was? If anything, he was worse. Don was the one who had thought that the criminal had been a perfect gentleman, for crying out loud! Talk about the mutated terrapin calling the TCRI ooze green. Raph allowed himself a small smile; he finally had Donny.

By the time they arrived and began climbing down the fire escape, Raph could no longer contain himself.

"So much for yer 'nice' young man," he smirked. And Raph was supposed to be the one that didn't notice anything?

"Raph, it's a terrible injustice for you to misquote me like that," Don landed in front of the metal cover. He pried it loose.

"I believe that 'courteous' is the word you are looking for. Speaking of which," he extended a hand toward the sewer entrance, "after you."

Needless to say, Raphael was a bit unsettled by Don's lack of reaction to his comment. This was not how the scene had played out in his head. Nevertheless, Raph crossed his arms and became rooted to the spot. He refused to believe that his brother was right.

"Oh, come on," Don began, "Just because the Shredder, the Foot Ninja, the Purple Dragons, Baxter Stockman, Agent Bishop, and all of the other crazies we face on a regular basis aren't courteous doesn't mean that every thug on the street is the same way. Bad guys _can_ be polite, Raph."

"And good guys _can_ be assholes, _Donny_. What's yer point?"

"That's exactly my point, dear brother. First impressions can be misleading. Things aren't always as they appear. There are plenty of Master's teachings that apply here."

The urge to roll his eyes was just too strong for Raph to resist.

"That criminal was targeting your sweetheart all along," Don continued, undeterred by Raph's muttered threat. "But he had enough sense to make her lower her guard first, just by being a courteous guy," Don concluded with a small nod, then gestured to the way home again.

Raph scowled before reluctantly dropping into the sewer. Don slipped down the manhole and pulled the cover shut. Keeping a firm grip on the sides of the ladder and pulling his feet from the rungs, he slid to the bottom. Raph was waiting for him, and together they continued home.

"So, what about the girl?" he asked in the most casual way.

"What, you mean you haven't figured it out yet?" Don quipped.

"No, genius, I haven't," there was a slight edge to Raph's voice, "Care to enlighten me?"

"Sure, since you asked so nicely," Don cut right to the chase, "She was pregnant."

On the outside, Raph simply lifted his eye ridges and allowed an unconcerned grunt to escape him. On the inside, however, his mind was racing. How the shell had he not figured that out? The baggy clothes, the bizarre food combinations, the arms riveted around her middle when her attacker struck. It was plain as day and Don had figured it out. Raph hadn't. Surprisingly however, he wasn't upset. It didn't seem to matter much anymore.

The two turned another corner and kept walking. Neither of them had reinstated the mad dash to the Lair since it ended aboveground. For whatever reason, Raph no longer felt the urge to rush home. He was kind of enjoying himself. They were moving at a turtle's pace now, but not a teenage mutant ninja turtle, that was for sure. Raphael chuckled.

Don seemed to read his mind.

"You think we'll beat Mike and Leo home at this rate?" he asked.

"Nah, they were prob'ly back before you even told me about the jetpacks," Raph decided.

With their mission completed and the Lair in sight, Don had finally reached a decision. He cleared his throat.

"Hey, uh, do you think you'd want to help me test the jetpack sometime? You know, after I've made enough adjustments so that it won't prove fatal in the hands of an amateur?" Don watched Raph's face break out into a huge grin.

"Are you kiddin'? That's the dumbest thing you've asked all night, bro," Raph slapped Don's shell. "Course I will, but on one condition."

"Name it," Don replied.

"You gotta let me come with ya every time ya test it from now on. You could kill yerself with that thing," Raph looked him in the eyes, "Promise?"

Don fought back the emotions churned up by his brother's concern. He realized that completing their mission that night had helped more than just the young woman and her unborn child.

"I promise, Raph. Thank you."

"No problem, braniac. Now, let's see who's home," Raph pulled on a nearby pipe, and the wall slid open. Together they entered, the wall sealing seamlessly behind them.

_Fin_


End file.
